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Enter the 49 gates of uncleanliness, said she hoisting up her skirt |
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I held my breath against her fetidness |
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As I gazed upon a swinish flirt |
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I worked like a mule down the pit |
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For seven long days and seven lonely nights |
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It makes one week exactly for those of you |
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Who lack the skills to add things up right |
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Born in this pig sty in my new pants and shirt |
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But I leaped on the fence and I fell in the dirt |
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Great Mr. Peanuts Andels said |
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Battle brained animal with a teethless grin |
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I fled rather than- let myself |
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Be bathed in the unforgiveable sin |
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I went straight home where I was met |
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By my mother with a skirt up over her head |
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Sometimes I wonder just why the |
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Hell |
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I ever bother to get out of bed |
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Born in this pig sty- in my new pants and shirt |
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But I leaped on the fence and I fell in the dirt |
